


Benjamin Parker

by theunremarkable



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, Gun Violence, Hurt Peter Parker, Implied/Referenced Torture, Iron Dad, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Psychological Torture, Shooting, Time Travel, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:13:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23786122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunremarkable/pseuds/theunremarkable
Summary: Tony’s nerve endings had been on fire for three long months, a hot poker branding every cell in his body with the knowledge that Peter was missing.  But one look at the boy strapped to a cold, metal table in front of him told him that the kid had been through much, much worse than Tony could, or ever would.~Everyone is relieved when Peter is found alive after 3 months; Harley, Tony, May, Pepper and even Dum-E chirped a little brighter.Except Peter, who won’t stop crying out for Ben.
Relationships: Ben Parker & Harley Keener, Ben Parker & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & May Parker (Spider-Man), Harley Keener & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Harley Keener & Pepper Potts, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Original Male Character(s), Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 54
Kudos: 282





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't read if ambiguity isn't your thing.

Tony’s nerve endings had been on fire for three long months, a hot poker branding every cell in his body with the knowledge that Peter was missing. But one look at the boy strapped to a cold, metal table in front of him told him that the kid had been through much, much worse than Tony could, or ever would. It wasn’t the bloodied torso, cut open from throat to hip, muscles gleaming in the surgical light, or his shoulder sticking out at an odd angle, nor the blacked rib cage that Tony barely noticed as he stumbled over to the table, knocking a tray full of dermatomes and screwdrivers and other instruments that would have brought bile up Tony’s stomach if he had looked closer. No, it was the blank, lifeless look in Peter’s eyes that caused Iron Man to wail in anguish. He wanted nothing more than to scoop Peter up into his arms and cry all his love back into his eyes, but he forced himself to stay back as the Avengers carefully transferred their youngest team member onto a stretcher, a bot scanning his injuries as they went.  
  
  
“Bring him home.” Tony whispered.

~

“Can I see him?” Harley heaved out, his air stolen by his lungs from the sprint to the Med Bay. He pushed through to open the door to where he knew Peter was laying, but Tony's firm hand on his chest stopped him.  
  
  
“Harley, I- It’s,” Tony rubbed at his eyes. “It’s not good.” He finished lamely as Harley fidgeted, itching to see Peter.  
  
  
This stilled Harley. The Great Tony Stark, lost for words. His mentor was normally loquacious, to a fault. Not to mention Tony was first on scene, and had a multitude of resources at hand to accurately describe the situation. Peter was alive wasn't he? What's not good about that?  
  
  
“Tony, I don’t care. I just need to see him. I need to see him for myself to make sure he’s really here, he’s really okay,” Harley pleaded.  
  
  
Tony sighed before relenting, hand gripping Harley’s shoulder as he led him though the door.  
  
  
May was sitting forward on the edge of her seat, gently holding one of Peter’s hands in her own, carefully avoiding the IV tube attached to it. Harley let out a small whimper as he looked at his friend unconscious on the bed. He had never seen Peter look so young, so defenseless, his curls matted against his forehead, a small frown as he slept. The med team had wiped away the blood, but there was nothing they could do for the black bruises mottling his face and neck, those further down covered by thick bandages. There was an oxygen tube attached to his nose, curled around his ears, sharing a space with a nasogastric tube. Harley couldn’t see past the blankets covering Peter’s chest, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to see the hidden damage with his own eyes.  
  
  
“When will he wake up?” Harley whispered.  
  
  
“He’s been drifting in and out all morning. He hasn’t said much,” May replied with a small smile, leaning back from what must have been an uncomfortable position. “Helen's worried, she said he doesn’t seem to be healing as fast as he usually does, so it might take him a while to be our Peter again.”  
  
  
“How bad is it?” Harley asked again, unable to bring his voice above a whisper.  
  
  
Tony pressed his lips firmly and shook his head as May looked away.  
  
  
“How bad?” Harley demanded, his voice rising.  
  
  
“He has a broken nose, a dislocated shoulder and clavicle, bruising to one side of his ribcage and 6 broken ribs on the other. One rib punctured a lung, but it's caused an infection,” Tony spoke, eyes closed as he did. “The bones in one hand are completely shattered, his fingernails are all missing, ruptured bicep, torn ligaments in his knee.” Tony rambled on, unable to stop himself now that he’d started. “Damage to his muscle fibres suggests he’s been electrocuted multiple times and he has pneumonia, Helen thinks maybe from either aspiration or water torture. His throat is constricted from constant pressure, most likely choking. Not to mention he’s been starving and dehydrated. He’s got other injuries that have healed wrong, so Helen had to re break or reopen in order to fix them. And that’s just what we can see.”  
  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
  
“He’s been, to say, difficult, so far when he’s been conscious,” Tony replied. “I’d say with good reason. But it’s going to be hard to watch Harley, I need you to know that.”  
  
  
"He's been terrified each time he wakes, screaming and clawing," May offered further. "I'm not sure he knows where he is, knows that he's safe. The med team had to restrain him just in order to wash the blood off."  
  
  
Harley could do nothing but nod, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat as he did so. He didn’t trust himself to speak, and with Tony and May looking so in pain he knew he had to step up, he had to be the pillar of strength that they usually provided him, that they had provided him over the past 90 days.  
  
  
So instead, he sat down on the other side of the bed and whispered again.  
  
  
“Hey Pete.”

~

It had been over 24 hours, and Harley still hadn’t seen Peter awake more than an eyelid flutter as he shifted in the bed, seeking comfort.  
  
  
“Ben,” Peter mumbled, pressing a bruised cheek into the pillow. His voice startled the occupants of the room into motion.  
  
  
“Ben?” He said again, bleary eyed up at Tony.  
  
  
“Just Tony, kid. It’s Tony.”  
  
  
“Where’s Ben?” He asked, sleepy features immediately filled with panic.  
  
  
“I-,” Tony looked helplessly at May.  
  
  
“Peter, honey. It’s May. You’re okay, you’re safe.” She reached forward to comfort him, but Peter sat up suddenly, looking past her.  
  
  
“Harley.”  
  
  
“Hey, Peter.”  
  
  
“Where is he. Where is Ben?” He demanded, eyes darting back and forth.  
  
  
“Peter…” Harley hesitated. “Ben’s dead.”  
  
  
“No.” Peter breathed out.  
  
  
“I’m sorry, Pete. I’m so sorry.” Harley whispered, stepping forward, his arms outstretched.  
  
  
“No,” he jerked away. “Don’t. No. Don’t touch me. Leave me.”  
  
  
Harley’s hands dropped as his heart clenched, hurt stabbing through him so sharply he wouldn’t be surprised if there was a physical wound, matching Peter’s torso.  
  
  
“Peter,” May gasped, but Peter ignored her, his eyes burning into Harley’s.  
  
  
“GET OUT HARLEY. LEAVE!”  
  
  
The three stood motionless in the med bay room, as Peter sobbed, pulling his bed sheets up to his knees, rocking gently in an effort to self sooth.   
  
  
“Leave me. Please, just go. GO. No, BEN.”  
  
  
Harley’s resolve shattered, his lips pressed together as tears streamed down his face. His body shook with silent sobs as Tony pushed him out the door. He wanted nothing more than to drown out the sound of Peter’s screams but he had no energy to escape, sliding down the wall beside Peter’s room, head in his hands as he continued to cry to the sound of Peter’s distress.

~

“Hey, Pete.” Harley said softly as he walked in, small surprise that he was conscious.  
  
  
He took the seat usually reserved for May, who was standing by the window, gazing outside. At Harley’s entrance she strode over to place a kiss on his forehead, ruffling his hair as he backed away. Tony had warned Harley of Peter's state, and May had held him for hours last night, but Harley was determined that he could help his friend. They had been through so much, Harley had helped him through so many other nights after bad patrols that he was sure he could over come this too.  
  
  
Peter looked over, and if Harley was shocked by the blank look in his eyes he didn’t show it. Instead, Harley took Peter’s good hand with both of his, rubbing his thumbs in circles over the top.  
  
  
Peter wore his heart on his sleeve, and wasn’t afraid to show it. To his family, to his friends and classmates, to the old ladies in the street that he helped with directions, even the cats he helped out of the trees. He proved this with his words and his actions, but for those who took notice, touch was the most important indicator. Although Harley knew Peter was self-less, he knew that deep down Peter craved touch in return. He often wondered if that was why Peter initiated so much touch, just so he could reaped what he had sown. His desire to be held was apparent when Peter was sick or injured, his stickiness going into overdrive. Even if Peter didn’t have the ability to stick to walls or people, Harley knew that wouldn’t stop him clinging or latching onto his loved ones when he felt most vulnerable.  
  
  
But at Harley’s touch he frowned slightly. He watched Harley’s hands rub over his for a few minutes, but it didn’t deter him. He didn’t want Peter to feel alone, he knew his touch was an anchor for Peter, and was praying that it was a small comfort, a familiar caress, a reminder of the home he had before he was taken, the home he still had now.   
  
  
Peter sat up suddenly, grabbing Harley’s left hand in his, not gently. Tony and May both started forward but it went unnoticed to Peter, who was staring at Harley, the briefest flash of anger on his face.  
  
  
“Where is it?” He demanded.  
  
  
“Where is what, Pete?” Harley countered in what he hoped was a soothing voice, hiding the tremor in his voice.   
  
  
But he was unable to hide the tremor in his hands as Peter stared down at them again.  
  
  
“Where is it? Why aren’t you wearing it?” Peter demanded again, his voice rich and low, reverberating around the room.  
  
  
“I don’t know, I don’t know what you’re talking about Pete.” Harley reached forward to cup Peter’s face but he pulled back violently, releasing Harley’s hand.  
  
  
“Where’s Ben? WHERE’S BEN?” He screamed, scrambling to push the covers off.  
  
  
Tony jumped forward, part of his suit already encasing his hand, to push Peter back down onto the covers as the young boy pushed against him.  
  
  
“Stop it Peter, dammit, you’ll hurt yourself.”  
  
  
“WHERE’S BEN?” Peter screamed again, sobs accompanying his pleas this time. “WHERE IS HE?”  
  
  
“Ben’s not here Peter,” May said gently, moving forward, heaping out of the way of his thrashing limbs. “We talked about this, honey.”  
  
  
“No. NO.” Peter tried to counter Tony’s weight. “NO!” He screamed, spit flying into his face at their proximity.  
  
  
Not finding what he needed in Tony’s eyes he turned to May, who had started to cry. He moved on to the only person left in the room, Harley, but at the sight his expression turned dark and he stopped struggling.  
  
  
“GET OUT. LEAVE!”  
  
  
Harley didn’t need to be told twice, making it to his room this time before collapsing in tears.

~

When Peter awoke, it was only to the company of May.  
  
  
“May?” He asked groggily, his voice a mixture of pain and sleep.  
  
  
“Hi, sweetie. How are you feeling?” She asked as she brushed loose curls off his forehead.  
  
  
“Where’s Ben?” May stilled at the question, but Peter continued. “Where’s Harley.”  
  
  
“You asked Harley to leave, Peter.”  
  
  
Peter’s eyebrows furrowed together, blinking as he tried to think back.   
  
  
“Why would I do that?” His eyes met May’s, confusion apparent.  
  
  
May went to sit on the side of the bed, hand still brushing his curls.  
  
  
“You get very upset when you see him Peter.”  
  
  
Peter accepted this with a nod.  
  
  
“He blames me.” Peter stated, shockingly emotionless.  
  
  
“Oh honey, Harley doesn’t blame you. He doesn’t blame you for anything.”  
  
  
“He should.” Peter said, again emotion draining from his eyes this time. He turned away from May, pulling the covers up over his shoulders as he did so, ignorant of the hot tears spilling down his cheeks.


	2. Chapter 2

When Pepper entered the lounge, flustered face and unsteady breathing to tell Tony that Peter wasn’t in his room, his entire body burned as bright as a supernova. He grasped at the couch edge, pulling himself up, regaining enough composure to gasp out “Friday, find Peter! Where is he?”  
  
  
“He headed south.”  
  
  
Nothing like a stupid answer to bring Tony to his senses.   
  
  
“What do you mean south? South of the building, of the city, the equator? Is he still here?”  
  
  
“Yes Boss. He is in Morgan’s room.”  
  
  
That stopped Tony in his tracks momentarily, before he turned on his heels towards his daughters room.   
  
  
“What is he doing?”  
  
  
“Sleeping, sir.”  
  
  
He shared a confused glance with Pepper as they ran, slightly out of breath as they reached the door. Once inside they found Peter curled in the cot, next to an unaware Morgan. She lay with her arms above her head, her face turned towards Peter. She sucked loudly on her pacifier, causing Peter to curl tighter, pressing her closer to him. He nuzzled his face closer to hers, inhaling deeply with the motion.  
  
  
Tony and Pepper spent a sleepless night sitting on the floor of Morgan’s room, too afraid to move for fear of waking Peter, unsure of which boy would be behind the eyes if he did. When the sunlight peeked through and Morgan began to stir, Pepper waited till her restlessness woke Peter slowly. And for the first time since they’d got Peter back, both Stark parents swear he awoke with a smile.  
  
  
“Morning, my babies. It’s time for breakfast.”

~

Peter seemed content to sit with Morgan for hours, passing the time handing her toys in order to steal a smile or cradling her to his chest as she slept, rubbing soft circles on her back.   
  
  
Tony’s heart ached at the sight of his own child, his child who had gone missing, and his child who was currently missing for fear of triggering Peter into anger with his mere presence. But as much as it pained him to admit to Harley, with the lessening of outbursts and increased time spent with Morgan, Peter had slowly lulled into a calmer demeanor.  
  
  
That’s not to say he didn’t still have moments. Tony was still at a loss to predict what caused Peter’s mood changes, but he was learning the warning signs and was able to react quick enough. He _had_ to be quick enough. Although Peter clung to Morgan for hours on end, screaming when she was pried from his grip, after the first time Peter’s eyes had darkened and he yelled for Ben, he couldn’t take any chances. He had pushed Morgan away from him so abruptly she had almost fallen off the bed, caught barely by the back of her shirt by Tony. Peter didn’t notice, his face once again going blank, the incident to be forgotten by the evening, where they once again found Peter curled in Morgan’s cot.  
  
  
Tony battled between recounting the endearing encounters of Peter and Morgan to Harley. He wanted to fulfill Harley’s love for Morgan and Peter, but understood Harley’s heartbreak at not being there, being the soother Peter so desperately needed. He felt his nerve endings, which had burnt violently during Peter's disappearance, frazzling with each passing moment, and Tony feared that he soon would be too exhausted to be of any help to any of his children. 

~

“Boss? It appears Peter has taken Morgan from her bed and is not walking in the direction of his own room.”  
  
  
Tony and Pepper sat up, synchronized in their movements.   
  
  
“What? Where is he going?”  
  
  
“It appears he is heading towards Harley’s room, sir.”  
  
  
Tony leapt from the bed, his hands already covered with a nano-tech gauntlet, ready to counter Peter's force if needed. He rushed down the hallway, Pepper only moments behind him.   
  
  
Tony cracked open the door to Harley’s room gently as to not shock the occupants with the noise or light. He would swear black and blue that he was trying not to wake Harley and Morgan, but truthfully his worries were only centered on one in the room.   
  
  
At the sliver of light that crept through, Harley turned his head towards Tony, his face strained. Peter lay on his side, one arm slung carelessly across Harley’s stomach, trapping Morgan between the two. Her arms were once again thrown above her head almost reaching Peter’s head as he nuzzled into Harley’s shoulder as the conscious turned his head to face the illuminated stars on his ceiling.  
  
  
“I didn’t even notice, I just woke up and they were here.” Harley’s voice was as strained as his face appeared moments before.  
  
  
Tony padded into the room, letting Pepper slip in behind him. Unlike the first night in Morgan’s room, Harley’s teenage abode offered both a lounge chair and a bean bag, which Tony and Pepper seated themselves in respectively.  
  
  
“What do I do?” Harley pleaded at Tony, the moonlight reflecting off the tears in his eyes.  
  
  
“It’s late, Harley. Go to sleep.”  
  
  
Harley once again rolled his head to face Tony. “What if he wakes up. What if- he gets so upset. Mo could get hurt. I couldn’t handle that Tony, I couldn’t”.  
  
  
“Hush Harley.” Tony countered quietly. “Pepper and I will make sure nothing happens, to anyone. I even brought back up." He motioned to the gauntlet. "Just sleep.”  
  
  
Harley was torn, but in the end the pure and raw desire to just be near Peter overcame all else. He fought off sleep, attempting to cherish lying next to Peter for as long as he could, but eventually he lost, and for the first time in four months, Harley slept soundly.

~

Harley awoke to a strange weight on his legs and torso, and a warmth to both his heart and body that he had not felt in a long time. He kept his eyes closed, desperate to hold on to the feeling for as long as possible, but it was not long before the illusion was broken.  
  
  
“It’s your turn.” Peter mused, a smile nudging his lips as Morgan fussed slightly between them.  
  
  
Harley stayed silent, his eyes flying open as he realised the situation he was in. He stilled in contrast to Morgan’s increasing motion, but Peter didn’t seem to notice, instead wrapping his arm further around Harley’s waist, curling his foot under Harley’s calf to completely intertwine the two. Harley’s breath hitched as Peter’s bare skin grazed his, burning trails across his hip.  
  
  
Morgan rolled over and rose.  
  
  
“Five more minutes, Ben.” Peter murmured, using his free arm to press her against his chest.  
  
  
She gaggled incoherently, enough to bring about a familiar frown to Peter’s brow.  
  
  
“Tony.” Harley gasped, sitting up to rip Morgan from Peter’s grip. Tony bound over in one step, stumbling slightly in his sleepy daze, grabbing his daughter before handing her to Pepper.  
  
  
Peter sat up to equal Harley, his hand grasping after Morgan.  
  
  
“No, Harley. Don’t, Ben. No.” He knelt over Harley’s legs in order to move after Morgan, tears already dripping onto the blankets. Harley reached around the younger boy with a tight hug, pinning his arms by his side to stop their reaching. Peter began to thrash and scream as Harley murmured soft words into his collarbone from behind, but it only seemed to increase Peter’s fear as he realised who was behind him.  
  
  
“NO. NO, DON’T, PLEASE. Let go of me Harley, LET ME GO, DON’T TOUCH-”  
  
  
The back of Peter’s head collided with Harley’s nose as he flailed to break free. His super strength was no match for the cartilage, shattering it on impact, pushing Harley’s head back into the headboard with a loud thump. Having succeeded in getting Harley to release him, Peter lunged forward, only to be stopped by Tony, half suited in order to hold the enhanced boy at bay.  
  
  
Tony looked at Harley in horror, blood streaming freely down his face mixing in with tears. He touched the back of his head gingerly whilst staring at Peter, spit once again flying from his mouth as he struggled against Tony, before sliding his legs from under the cover and rushing from the room.  
  
  
“Pep, get May. Help Harley.” Tony gasped.

~

Harley stumbled into the bathroom, locking it behind him with difficulty with his shaking hands. He moved his trembling limbs over to the basin, gripping it tightly to stare at himself in the mirror. He gasped, shocked at the sight, when he saw the bloodied mess that was once his face. But still, he found that he was more shocked by Peter’s reaction to him.  
  
  
Peter, whom he had met at age 14, and immediately the pair had set a fire to Tony’s lab. Peter, who had helped him with various biology assignments and in return let Harley in on the most important secret of his life, even letting the mechanic fiddle with parts of the suit because he knew Harley yearned to keep him safe during patrols. The pair who stayed up late on school nights, popcorn between them as Peter recounted his homecoming and ex-girlfriend, too involved in his own story to notice Harley’s usual brightness slowly dimming from his eyes. Peter who from the first time he saw him, knew he would forever be in his life, in any capacity. He didn’t care what, or how much, or how little, but in every scenario there had been at least civility between the two, and in some scenarios when Harley was alone and dared to dream, so, so much more.  
  
  
Peter, who now could not even stand to be in the same room as Harley without becoming so upset or angry that he had even managed to hurt himself on one occasion.   
  
  
This. This just might break Harley. And for the first time, Harley wished, his breath shuddering with sobs as he did so, that Peter had never been found.   
  
  
As if he had heard his thoughts, Harley heard Peter moving down the hallway.  
  
  
“Come one Peter, this way.” Tony quickened his pace to catch up. “NO, Peter.”   
  
  
The door handle rattled. “Harley?” Came Peter’s voice, no longer shouting but small and laced with pain.  
  
  
Harley’s hand flew to his mouth to suppress the cries, his whole body wracking as he did so. His hand was wet, so wet, from a mixture of blood and tears in an effort to silence himself but he knew it was futile. Harley was vividly aware of Peter explaining, long ago, how he could focus in on people’s breaths, their heart beats, on the vibrations of air around their bodies.  
  
  
“I’m so sorry, Harley. I’m so sorry, please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Peter sobbed repeatedly as Tony dragged him away.  
  
  
Harley collapsed against the door, allowing himself sound again until Pepper found him. He sobbed as she wiped his face clear, as Helen checked him over and applied a splint to his nose, as May failed to kiss away the ever flowing tears, and as Tony tucked him into the bed in the guest room, understanding Harley’s distress of going back to his own room. He sobbed himself dry, his body aching from the effort, as he curled himself into the tightest ball he could. Harley sobbed in his dreams, and when he awoke, his pillow was wet. 


	3. Chapter 3

When Peter awoke with a start, it wasn’t to a cold metal table, so cold it was burning his bare skin. It was in a bed, a weighted blanket holding him prisoners to the soft pillows, his skin covered by pyjamas of such design as to not irritate his skin.  
  
  
But the burning wouldn’t stop. It was in his body, in his head, in his lungs. Oh god, he couldn’t breath.   
  
  
He sat up gasping, soundlessly sucking in air, in vain, to attempt to sooth the fire in his chest. His eyes swam, vision blurry as he reached for something, for anything, to pull him up from his depth.   
  
  
There was May, he saw, but no, she wouldn’t do. He winced as his broken ribs rubbed over each other.  
  
  
He felt cool metal on his skin once again, but this time, unlike so many others, he was strong enough to knock it away. He jerked back as he did, attempting to put as much distance between the torturous instrument and his body as he could. He couldn’t, his breath, he wouldn’t take the pain of being electrocuted today, couldn't take the chance that his skin would be split open instead, or worse, they'd come for his mind. The worst was always his mind. He wasn't sure when the pain had morphed from inflicted to self-inflicted. He didn't care. He kicked once again at the figure by his side, knowing his resistance may result in a method of pain far worse, overstimulating his sense with bright lights and sounds, with bare touches, but he couldn’t today, he couldn’t-.  
  
  
Brown eyes looked into his. Not blue.  
  
  
Tony. It was Tony.  
  
  
Tony, who hadn’t saved him, hadn’t come for Peter, who let there be pain. Tony would not help him.  
  
  
His eyes took in the rest of the room, searching for anything, anyone. They focused on Harley.   
  
  
Harley, but not Harley.  
  
  
“Harley.” He croaked.  
  
  
The boy rushed forward, arms out.  
  
  
It was Harley.  
  
  
Peter frowned. His eyes slipping into a distant memory.  
  
  
Still not Harley.  
  
  
Peter jolted back into the present and grasped the arms offered to him, not caring of the bruises he would leave. He needed-  
  
  
“Ben.” He rasped out. “Where is he?”   
  
  
Desperate, Peter pulled him closer. Harley stumbled, his hands falling to his chest to steady himself. The touch cooled the fire ever so slightly.  
  
  
“Peter, you’re okay. You’re safe.”  
  
  
Not enough.  
  
  
“Ben, where is he?” Peter pulled Harley closer by the shirt. Why didn’t he understand? Why didn’t he care? Did he not? Love. He loved.  
  
  
Peter glanced down at the hands on his chest. Ben missing. Not a choice, but a fault. Ring missing. A choice, a fault. Not his choice, but his fault.  
  
  
Not his choice.  
  
  
“No, please no.”  
  
  
“Peter, we’ve talked about this. Ben is gone. He's dead.”   
  
  
Harley said it kindly, but it wasn’t enough. It was nowhere near enough.  
  
  
Distant memories, no longer distant, too much, came flooding back, drowning his lungs in guilt. It was heavier than anything he’d felt, leaving less room for oxygen than the fire did. It hurt more than the scalpel along his spine, the poke of bare fingers inside him, the breaking of his bones. More than his owns screams to his sensitive ears, but not more than the screams of-.  
  
  
It hurt, and it was his own fault.  
  
  
He deserved every second, every inch of pain wracking his body.   
  
  
What he didn’t deserve, was Harley looking at him. With pity.  
  
  
“No, Harley.” He pleaded. “Go.” If he could get Harley to leave, leave now, perhaps he could spare him some of the pain they would soon share.  
  
  
"Don't touch me." Didn't deserve it.  
  
  
“Get out. Leave me.” He sobbed, sacrificing the remainder of his breath into the words, closing his eyes and sinking into the mattress. “GO!”  
  
  
A heartbeat gone.  
  
  
Not forever. He could never let it dim forever.  
  
  
Not like-  
  
  
He swatted at the hands soothing his curls. That was _his_ job, to calm and protect.  
  
  
"GO!"  
  
  
He didn’t deserve- no he did deserve, as his ears followed the heart beat down the hall, the effort enough to distract him from his chest once more.  
  
  
One more heartbeat left.  
  
  
He followed it until it was so faint, until it was overrun with-  
  
  
Another heart beat.   
  
  
Smaller, faster.  
  
  
He sat up suddenly, pushing down the wildfire, focusing every ounce of his being on - there was a child? A child. His legs moved of their own accord, propelling him through the building towards the anchor. He couldn’t see clearly, he had stopped seeing long ago, instead focusing on his proprioception and hearing to guide him down the hallway to a closed door. He opened it.  
  
  
The sound of a child’s soft breathing calmed Peter enough to take in his surroundings. It was a nursery, a change table in the corner, a pile of toys on the floor within reach, books strewn across the rocking chair. But Peter cared for none of that as he stumbled into the cot, his gaze stolen by the sleeping figure.  
  
  
The fire began to dim as he crawled into the small space, only abating fully as he curled his body protectively around the toddler, one hand steady on the heartbeat.

~

“I’ve been thinking, Tony.” May started, cupping her warm coffee in both hands, staring distantly past it. “I’m not sure Peter means Ben.” She paused. "My Ben."  
  
  
“What do you mean?” Tony frowned. In the time Peter had been back, he had mentioned Ben more times than he had breathed, accompanied with extreme emotion. He meant Ben.  
  
  
“When... it happened, Peter was nowhere like this.” May took a sip. “He was quiet, and sad, but never blank. Never aggressive. If anything, he was strong, mentally and emotionally, stronger than I've ever seen. Enough to help me.”  
  
  
“That’s only what he let you see. He was out every night, swinging around the city in a tracksuit without your knowledge. He’s very capable of hiding things from you.” Tony reminded her.  
  
  
“Are you saying I don’t know my own kid?”  
  
  
“No, and I would never think that there was anyone more in this world for Peter than you.”  
  
  
They stood in silence.  
  
  
“I’m not sure he was as strong as you think.” Tony brought up quietly.  
  
  
May tuned to him, startled.  
  
  
“There were a series of arrests, shortly after Ben’s death. They were all street criminals, with descriptions similar to that of Ben’s killer, notable features that Peter would have remembered.”  
  
  
“I remember.”  
  
  
“It wasn’t the police.”  
  
  
“What?”  
  
  
“It was kept quiet. This was in the early days, Peter had only just been bitten, and no one knew about Spider-Man yet. I don’t even think Peter knew. But those arrested, they weren’t, they- They were all found with fibres of webbing on them, an unrefined version of Peter’s web fluid. But they were found, tied up in the police station, worse for wear.” Tony hated telling May this, digging up more pain during this time, but he didn’t want her to have false hope. “A lot of them, they were taken to hospital before being convicted. Broken bones, punctured lungs, smashed faces and in absolute agony. Several of them needed surgery, one was on life support systems for a while.” He rubbed at his face. “I don’t know if it was Pete just working out his strength, or if he lost control, but you need to know that it did happen.”  
  
  
They stood in silence again.  
  
  
"I don't blame him. He was grieving. But I don't doubt that it could have happened either."  
  
  
May persisted. “He was different. It was a different grief, Tony. Trust me, I've seen them all in him.”  
  
  
“Keep in mind May, we don’t know what happened. If he was tortured, physically, or by his memories, there’s no telling how that could affect him.”  
  
  
She sighed, and Tony thought she had relented. But May Parker was a force, not a woman to be defeated easily.  
  
  
“Most of his association with Ben seems to be with Morgan.” She stated finally.  
  
  
Tony let the knowledge sink in, but he found time was not formulating a response for him.  
  
  
“He holds her with such maturity, and practice. He’s always been a bit awkward with kids, no doubt because he still is one, but seeing him now. It’s natural, it's paternal. It’s like seeing Richard, all over again. And it's around her that he cries for Ben most.”  
  
  
“It seems to be Harley that triggers it.”  
  
  
“No, Harley triggers the most pain. But it's Morgan who pulls out love.”   
  
  
Sensible. He almost rued the day he had met May. She was the only one who could match him.  
  
  
“Maybe his focus on Ben is bringing out the memories of how he was treated by him, and Peter's replicating it to Morgan. But we don’t know, May, we don’t know.”  
  
  
Silence once again settled over the room. They stood there for a while, no alerts of Peter waking. Tony started, on his way to clean up for the day but stopped as May spoke.  
  
  
“Is there a way you could find out?” She asked suddenly.  
  
  
“What do you mean.”  
  
  
“Is there a way, that you could… see his memories. See what really happened.”  
  
  
“Do we really want that?”  
  
  
“No, but maybe it would help.”  
  
  
“Maybe it would hurt.”  
  
  
May hummed in response, leaving Tony to his thoughts.

~

“I can’t wear it, May. I can’t let you give it to me.”  
  
  
May’s face softened as she placed the ring in Harley’s palm, curling his fingers around it.  
  
  
“You can, and you will.” She said, standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips to his cheeks. “If for no one else, then at least for Peter.”  
  
  
“How do you know this will even help anything?”  
  
  
“I don’t know, Harley. But I know my son, call it a mother’s intuition, and I believe this is what he needs.”  
  
  
“I don’t understand.” Harley said, frowning down, twisting the band between his thumbs.  
  
  
“And maybe we never will. But we don’t have to.” She gripped his hand before leading him into Peter’s room in the Med Bay.  
  
  
Harley slipped the ring onto his hand as he waited for Peter to wake, but May shook her head and removed it for him. She sat satisfied after she had moved it to his left hand, his ring finger.  
  
  
Harley glanced down, not trusting himself to speak. Although he had resisted, wearing Ben Parker’s old wedding ring felt, almost natural. It fit, and it was slightly worn, scratched in places, giving it the appearance of having been on his finger for a long time. He rubbed at it, twisting round as he did so, as Peter shifted in the bed, waking for the afternoon.  
  
  
Harley stopped fidgeting, looking into Peter’s eyes as he came to. Harley leaned forward to prepare himself, relaxing slightly as he saw life, not dullness or anger in them.   
  
  
Perhaps today could be a good day.  
  
  
Peter took in May at the end of the bed, and Tony by the window, testing his mouth as he did so. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes before resting on Harley, a frown settling. The frown of doom, Harley dubbed it.  
  
  
Perhaps not.  
  
  
Peter’s eyes flickered down to Harley’s hand. He stared back up at him for a moment, expression imperceptible, before resting his gaze on Harley’s hand. He continued to look down as his chest rose and fell deeply. Harley’s right hand moved to grasp the chair handle, his legs bent, preparing to run from the room, as Peter’s eyeline once again moved up with Harley’s face.  
  
  
And unlike any other encounter, Peter smiled at Harley. It was the barest of smiles, not quite crinkling the skin around his eyes as Harley loved, but it was a smile nonetheless. There was a collective exhale from the room, though none of the figures had meant to hold their breath.  
  
  
“Will you stay?”  
  
  
Harley nodded, pausing slightly before stepping forward to the bed. He felt so raw today after his simple encounter with May, he wasn’t sure if he could handle another outburst from Peter. Harley wasn’t sure how, but each incident seemed to cut deeper and deeper into his soul.  
  
  
They shared the same bed for hours, propped up against pillows, hands resting close enough to touch, but not quite. Just as he was with Morgan, Peter seemed content to just sit there in Harley’s presence.  
  
  
After several hours, Peter finally spoke. It was soft, and hesitant.  
  
  
“Do you forgive me?”  
  
  
Harley’s eyes flickered to May’s, who nodded small and sad at him.  
  
  
“Always, Pete.”  
  
  
"You shouldn't."  
  
  
But it was enough for Peter, who sighed and slid his hand into Harley’s, burrowing further into the pillows.  
  
  
He didn’t speak for the rest of the night, but for the first time in 5 months, Peter didn’t scream.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo normally when these ideas float around in my head, I'm fortunate enough to be able to gloss over the bits that are a bit ridiculous and don't make sense.  
> But that method didn't really work when *actually* story telling, so I had to do some research. Unfortunately, I'm also fairly lazy so I did minimal research. If this don't make sense or don't work, I'm sorry, but maybe just... Forgive me, and pretend they do?

“There is a way.”  
  
  
“Hmmm?” May questioned, looking up from her book.  
  
  
“Binary Augmented Retro-Framing technology.” He bounced the end of his pen against the desk, gnawing on his lip as he did so.  
  
  
May stared blankly at him.  
  
  
“A while back, after that whole Sokovia fiasco, I developed a technology, a bit of a personal project really. I had hoped it could have been more, could have helped a lot of people but I knew no one would ever pick it up. Mostly just turned into expensive therapy. Well, more expensive.” He scrunched his nose. “The idea was that if we could hijack the hippo-campus, placing nodes around the brain, we could use holo-tech to display the electrical responses into images. End goal, clear or rewrite traumatic incidents by combining electroconvulsive therapy to the specific memories.”  
  
  
“Tony.” May groaned. She rivaled Tony in spirit and will, not in smarts.  
  
  
“Small machine makes movies from Peter’s memories. Think of a hearing aid.”  
  
  
“Will it hurt Peter? This.. Binary...”  
  
  
“B.A.R.F.” Tony interrupted, one side of his mouth turning down.  
  
  
“Harley would love that.” May smiled.  
  
  
“I’m not so sure I would want Harley involved.” He said tentatively.  
  
  
“Me either, but it’s not our choice.”  
  
  
“Like hell it’s not! I promised his mother I would look after him. I don’t think exposing him to a most certainly R-Rated, violent and traumatic movie not-so-loosely based on his best friend's life exactly qualifies as exemplary care!”  
  
  
May sighed. “We can think on it. We'll keep it quiet, just don’t tell Harley until we’re sure.”  
  
  
“Don’t tell me what?”  
  
  
May and Tony groaned in synchronization, turning to face Harley's grin.

~

“I’m… I’m not sure.” Peter said, sitting cross legged.  
  
  
“We’re not going to judge you, or hurt you, Peter. We simply want to understand, so that we can help you.”  
  
  
“I’m okay. I don’t need help.” Peter looked so small in the bed, he sounded so small, gripping the bed sheets tightly up around his chest.  
  
  
“Peter, do you like feeling the way you do, everyday?”  
  
  
He stared blankly for a moment, shaking his head when he returned.  
  
  
“Do you think that it’s something that we could help you with?”  
  
  
“No one can help me. It’s been done already. You can’t change the past.”  
  
  
“You’re one smart cookie, Pete. But we can work out ways to make it work, to make your future a little better.”  
  
  
Peter was unconvinced. “It won’t work.” He whispered back.  
  
  
“What about your webs kiddo? You told me the formula was an absolute mess the first few times. So what did you do? You looked over the formula, you reviewed what did and didn’t work, what situations you were in and how it responded. And then you made changes to your approach, to your materials, to your method. And voila - what used to buckle under the weight of a fly now can hold a skyscraper from squashing a kindergarten. This is exactly the same. You are the webs, Peter, and we’re the formula, the method, the materials. There’s nothing wrong with you, it's what May, Harley and I can do to build you up to be the strongest you can be. But we can’t do that without a proper review.”  
  
  
Peter still seemed hesitant.  
  
  
“You’ll be asleep the whole time, buddy. I made you some good drugs, you might even dream a little. You won’t have to go through it again.”  
  
  
He looked to Harley.  
  
  
“Do you forgive me?”  
  
  
“You know I do.” Harley repeated. He was unsure just exactly what he was forgiving Peter for, but if it kept him happy, he didn’t care. He would say, or do, anything.  
  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
  
“Of course I forgive you.” He tried again gentler this time.   
  
  
“Do you promise?”  
  
  
“Listen to my heartbeat, you know I can’t lie to you.”  
  
  
“But will you promise.”  
  
  
“I promise to always forgive you. No matter what. No matter how bad it gets.”  
  
  
“Okay then.”

~

Tony skipped past Peter’s disappearance, his capture, something they were all far too familiar with, having spent hours agonizing over it already in the months he was missing.   
  
  
The scene blurred into focus as Peter came to consciousness, held to a metal table by by restraints on his ankles and wrists, and two large black straps against his chest and hips. The same metal table Tony found him on 3 months later.  
  
  
He struggled against the shackles with no avail, but Peter Parker was stubborn. He slammed against the binds, grunting with the effort for a few minutes, but still no success. The only result was to disturb a figure hidden in the corner. As he came into view, Peter identified a tall, slim man dressed in a button down shirt and slacks. His hair was unkempt and greasy, beady eyes squinting through sharp rectangular glasses.  
  
  
“It’s nice to meet you again, Peter Parker.”   
  
  
“I don’t- I don’t know who you are.” Peter gasped.  
  
  
“Not yet, but you will.” The man retreated into the corner of the room to pull the chair he had been sitting on to beside Peter's table. He stared at him for a moment before continuing.  
  
  
“My name is Jacob Griffin. And 12 years from now, you kill my family.”  
  
  
“No, please, I don’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter struggled, but Jacob simply ignored him, smiling slightly at his words.  
  
  
“You don’t change. That’s what you said in my year too, that you didn’t kill them. That it wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t save them. That there’s a difference. But you see Peter,” he continued leaning forward to speak into Peter’s face, forcing it back towards him as Peter attempted to look up to the ceiling. “I am a very smart man. And I know there is no difference. You killed my family. You took my reason for living. But, by doing so, you gave me a new reason for living. That is you, you are my reason for living. My sole purpose, is to cause you the grief you caused me.”  
  
  
He stood up, rolling his sleeves back as he did. The chair scraped back, the sound making Peter wince. The drugs had altered his senses, everything was so loud, so bright, so painful already.  
  
  
Jacob laughed, as Peter didn’t realise he’d spoken aloud.  
  
  
“Pain? You know nothing. But as I said, I am a smart man. I was a researcher, a professor. So I am going to teach you.”  
  
  
He moved to the side of the room to grab a syringe.  
  
  
“I would like to teach you about pain. But as I do so, I would like to make you aware that I am simply a co-author of this lesson. The first is, obviously, yourself. It was your actions that lead to this moment. The second is Tony Stark. He also thought I was a smart man, and employed me. A nice man, who kept me employed even after my work stumbled and faltered after the tragedy of my family. A revolutionary man who introduced me to the ideas, and the technology available for time travel and memory harvesting. A proud man, who doted on his family, boasting their achievements to anyone who would listen. But as he is the man who let me know that your family was planning to expand in the years after mine shrunk, forcing me to bide my time, three years of it. The man opened my eyes and allowed me to travel back in time to show you these,” he tapped at the needle. “Maybe you will not see him as such a nice man. Which is a shame, because at this young age you have yet to fully accept him as a father figure. That touch of a beautiful relationship which would make this betrayal all the worse, but I think I will be happy with my results.”  
  
  
He rolled Peter’s head to the side, pushing it firmly into the table as Peter attempted to fight him off. He smiled as he pressed the needle into the base of Peter’s skull.  
  
  
“I take great pleasure in saying this is going to hurt.”   
  
  
The room swam once again, as Peter’s memories within memories took hold.

~

Harley vomited, his face pale as they were brought back to the bare room, bare except for Peter shuddering on the table, Jacob frowning slightly down at him.  
  
  
“How interesting. These memories must condense. Importing your future was so much quicker than I anticipated.” Jacob mused as Peter lay gasping beneath him, tears streaming sideways down his face. ‘But yet, I don’t feel you have suffered enough. Nowhere near enough.”  
  
  
“No please.” Peter pleaded. “It’s enough, it’s enough.” He cried as he struggled once more against the restraints.  
  
  
“Has your entire life, your only reason worth living, been stolen from you? Does a fire burn through your chest, only to be extinguished by your own tears. Do you feel your own cells ripping each other apart, each day when you wake? Do they quieten when you sleep, only to have demons chase you, unable to run away as you slip in their blood? No Peter Parker.” He said as he squeezed Peter’s throat. “You know nothing of pain. You know nothing of enough. It won't even be enough when you lay in a pool of your own filth. NOT WHEN YOUR OWN SCREAMS BURST YOUR EARS, NOT WHEN YOUR VOICE LEAVES YOU FOR CRYING OUT SO MUCH, NOT EVEN WHEN YOU BEG ME TO KILL YOU. IT'S ENOUGH WHEN I DECIDE IT’S ENOUGH.” He applied pressure to Peter's throat as he screamed, the boy’s face turning purple as his veins bulged.  
  
  
Jacob released suddenly as Peter’s eyes began to roll backwards. Peter sucked a grateful breath in as Harley vomited again.   
  
  
Tony paused the simulation.  
  
  
“I think we're done here.”

~

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Harley slid to the ground, May collapsing with him. She waited until he brought his knees to his chest before wrapping her arms around him, resting her face on his shoulder as he stared ahead.  
  
  
“Just breathe kid, breathe for me Harley.” Tony knelt to soothe Harley. “Goddammit, May, I told you we shouldn’t have brought him.”  
  
  
“No, I’m good, I- just give me a minute.” He exhaled heavily through his nose, focusing his gaze on Tony.  
  
  
“You don’t have to be okay, Harley.” May said, tears streaming down her face.  
  
  
“I do. I have to, for Pete.”  
  
  
May rolled her head on Harley's shoulders to look over at Tony. “We can’t let Peter live with that Tony. The, therapy, the clearing of memories. Does it work?”  
  
  
“We never tested it, May. B.A.R.F only ran as far as holographic projections. And even if I did, with Peter’s healing, with his enhanced factors, I’m not even sure electroconvulsive therapy would work on him.” Tony countered softly.  
  
  
The three knelt together, their limbs an awkward mess.  
  
  
“Screw that.” Harley said, his composure surprising even himself. “You told Peter that he wasn’t the problem, the past wasn’t the problem. And it’s not. We’ve just got to make sure what he thinks is going to happen, won’t happen.”  
  
  
“It’s not just a case of the future, Harley. It seems as though his mind has melded the past, present and future into one big jumbled mess. They’re all the same to him, they’ve all already happened.”  
  
  
“So we untangle them. Slowly, one by one. I don’t care how long it takes. But we damn make sure his life turns out differently to what he saw.”  
  
  
Silence. Broken by Harley.  
  
  
“If Griffin has come back to now to torture Peter, does that mean he’ll still be in the future, waiting? Or is this now a different reality? A different timeline?”  
  
  
“Don’t look at me Harley, I have no clue how time travel works. The thought of it, it's absurd.”  
  
  
“He said you’re the one who created it!” Harley shot back, a small amount of malice present.  
  
  
“No doubt.” Tony grimaced again. “But not yet. And now, I’m not sure I want to.”  
  
  
“Oh god.” Harley flopped his head into his hands. “That’s probably gonna fuck it up even more!”  
  
  
Silence again.  
  
  
“You figure it out Tony. You’ve got 15 years to do it, so get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is that a.... Slight dig at end game? Don't mind if I do!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out quite a bit darker than I intended (regarding torture, violence and death) so please read ahead at your own risk. Nevertheless, it's the one I'm most proud of, so I hope you enjoy. I also hope I did my job and you don't enjoy it because it's too many feels and it hurts your soul to read it as much as it hurts mine to write it!

_“A literal superhero.” Harley’s laugh tinkled as the pair stood halfway down a flight of stairs. “Fell down the stairs. I mean, I’ve seen you dodge bullets with more grace than a ballerina, all while running your mouth with some shitty comment. How did you manage to miss a few steps?”_  
  
_“Harley.” Peter whined, but he just laughed again._  
  
_Harley grabbed Peter’s wrist and continued down the stairs, eager to be on their way._  
  
_But his enthusiasm caused Peter to stumble again. Harley's grip on his wrist connected the two, meaning Peter fell into Harley, who had used the railing to keep himself upright. Peter’s body collided into his, their chests pressed together._  
  
_Harley dropped Peter’s wrist, but neither of them moved._  
  
_“Parker.” Harley whispered._  
  
_Peter continued to stare at Harley, as he slowly brought their faces close enough that Harley could feel Peter’s nervous breath on his face._  
  
_“Pete.” He tried again. “What are you doing?”_  
  
_“This.” Peter breathed, as he brought his lips up to reach Harley’s._  
  
Cold, cold water surrounded him, his face, his mouth, his lungs.  
  
_It was Harley who broke away from the kiss. The hand which had grabbed Peter’s wrist had found its way to his curls, gripping them gently even as their hungry mouths parted._  
  
_Peter shifted nervously, but made no move to pull his weight off Harley._  
  
_“I- Is, is that okay?”_  
  
_“Fucking hell, Parker. Of course this is- my god. I'm not even dreaming this time. If I had an inkling of a thought that you were into boys I would have done this years ago. When I was 14, if you really must know.”_  
  
_“Sorry.” Peter replied, as he looked up through his lashes. “I, just- Me too. I guess it’s taken me this long to work up the courage.” He bit his lip, still nervous ._  
  
_Harley only groaned in response. “Stop talking. And definitely stop biting your lip like that. Make those it useful else ways, please. Like, right now."_  
  
_Peter smiled, his lips still smiling as the met Harley’s for another kiss._  
  
A baseball bat, covered in barbed wire.  
  
_Peter stumbled through the dorm window, knocking over a potted plant as he did so. Harley was there in moments, his arms under Peter’s armpits, lifting him to the bathroom. He cleaned up Spider-Man's cuts and grazes, planting a soft kiss to each bandage as he worked._  
  
Nails ripped from his fingers, one by one.  
  
_The room was dark, but a sliver of moonlight highlighted two bodies moving as one under the sheets._  
  
Head slammed into concrete.  
  
_Peter turned to find Harley down on one knee. His face broke into a smile so large that only Peter Parker could achieve as he laughed, bending down on his own knee as he too pulled out Ben Parker’s old ring from his pocket._  
  
A taser.  
  
_A small, intimate dinner, only a few packing boxes left in the corner as Harley and Peter sat at a round table, holding their hands in view of their guests. May, Pepper, Happy, Tony and a teenage Morgan all laughed over their pasta._  
  
The crack of a bone.   
  
_Peter and Harley walked down the aisle. The look in Harley’s eyes suggested that he wanted to run. Run away, to steal Peter’s company for only himself. Forever._  
  
Another bone. And another.  
  
_Harley held Peter as he sobbed, Spider-Man suit half rolled down to expose his torso._  
  
_“You can’t save everybody, Pete.”_  
  
_“I have to. I have to save everyone.”_  
  
_Harley sighed at the familiar argument, one neither would win._  
  
_“It’s not your fault.”_  
  
_“If I was there, and I didn’t save them, then it’s my fault. If I wasn’t quick enough, I wasn’t strong enough, then it’s all my fault.”_  
  
_“Shhh, hey, look at me. Listen to my heartbeat. I’m not lying. It’s not your fault, Pete. It’s not your fault.”_  
  
A knife pierced his skin.  
  
_“It has to be you, Harley. Only you. We can’t risk it. We don’t know what my DNA could do.” Peter said as he sat on the edge of a bed._  
  
_Harley rubbed at his shoulder, shifting his whole body closer._  
  
_“It won't change anything, Pete.”_  
  
_“I know.” He turned to smile warmly at his husband. “I want this. More than anything.” He stole three quick kisses from Harley before pushing him down gently onto the pillows following him down. One hand either side of Harley’s chest, he continued his gentle affection down his body._  
  
The metal reached bone.  
  
_“I swear it’s your turn.” Harley groaned in the darkness, rolling out of bed as he did so._  
  
_He disappeared for a moment, returning with a screaming child. The baby continued to cry as Harley climbed back into the bed, rolling onto his side to mirror Peter. The cries slowly faded as the pair cradled their son between them in the night._  
  
_“Our Benjamin. Our beautiful Benjamin Parker.” Harley smiled as he pressed his forehead into Peter’s, the three of them drifting off to sleep._  
  
Fingers dug into open flesh.  
  
_The world rushed around Peter as he swung through New York, not a suit or even a mask to protect him from the cool wind. It slowed as he reached his destination, dropping onto his feet, and further onto his hands as he stumbled on the rooftop, running to the door. He didn’t bother with the stairs as he vaulted over the railing, dropping four levels before grabbing the railing he needed, launching himself onto the hallway and through the doorway to his left. It pushed open to reveal Harley, aged but ever so Harley, bound in the middle of the room. Blood matted his hair, a large bruise already forming on his cheek. He was curled in on himself, looking smaller than Peter had ever seen him, as if in pain. His eyes were wide, tears forming, as he looked to Peter, small sounds failing to escape his gagged mouth._  
  
_Peter whirled to the sound of his son. Ben was struggling against Jacob, holding the toddler firmly to his chest with one hand, a gun directed at Harley with the other._  
  
_“Try it, I’m trigger happy.” He hissed, as Peter made a move forward._  
  
_“Who are you? How did you find us? WHAT DO YOU WANT?”_  
  
_“Who am I? Oh, how insignificant us mere mortals are to the Amazing, Spectacular Spider-Man.” The man drawled sarcastically._  
  
_“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_  
  
_“That’s too bad.” He hissed again. “I’d light to enlighten you. But in the process I’d like to find out just how mortal you and your family are.”_  
  
_“Just let them go. Please, we can talk about whatever you want, you can do whatever you want. Just let them go, please.” Peter said, his arms raised as he slowly moved to stand between the gun and Harley, ignoring his husband's muffled protests. He may be quick enough to dodge a bullet, but Harley wasn’t._  
  
_“Move aside Peter. Now, or I change my mind.” He said as Peter didn’t budge, moving the gun to press against Ben’s neck._  
  
_Peter’s hands froze in his surrendered position, his heart ripped in two, one half for each of his family. He tilted his head to look at behind him at Harley, breath caught in his throat as Harley’s nods caused tears to flow over._  
  
_Peter stepped away._  
  
_“Further.” The man sneered._  
  
_Peter took three, large bounds to the side._  
  
_“Very good. Now run, boy, run to your father.” Jacob whispered as he let Ben go, moving the gun to focus on Peter._  
  
_Ben waddled towards Peter, still roaring as he did so. Peter lowered one hand as he neared, touching his son’s hair._  
  
_“No, Benny. Go to dad.” He said softly, turning the gentle caress into a push towards the middle of the room._  
  
_Ben stumbled towards Harley who slipped his arms around him the best he could with his hands still bound. He attempted to hide the child’s face into his chest but Ben’s twisting was relentless, his eyes on Peter as Harley held him tight._  
  
_“You killed my family. You let them die.”_  
  
_Peter froze with the memory. “I tried, I did. I couldn’t- I couldn’t save them.”_  
  
_Jacob snarled. “No. You killed them.”_  
  
_“Please, just leave my family out of this.”_  
  
_“I don’t think so, Peter Parker. I have great plans for you. I’ve had three years to work out how to make you suffer. As they say knowledge is power, but it is also pain. So I’m going to let you know how I will hurt you, so you are prepared. So that you can anticipate the pain.” He fired a shot beside Peter’s feet. Deliberate, good aim, and enough to make Ben scream impossibly louder. “I am going to kill your family slowly, Peter. And you are going to watch. After I do so, because I have decided that you have not suffered enough, I plan to use the prototype time travel machine you so kindly helped to build to go back to time where you are younger and, let's see, enlighten you of the consequences of your actions. So all of you, all Peters, past, present and future, get to live with the pain you left me with.”_  
  
_“Do you forget who I am?” Peter's low voice shook the room with false bravado._  
  
_“I beg your pardon.” Jacob stumbled at the boldness._  
  
_“I’m Spider-Man. I can dodge bullets. I can move to you faster than you can pull that trigger. One light hit from me could snap your neck-”_  
  
_Another shot rang out closer to his feet. Peter, though a veteran with guns, flinched. Jacob stared at him down the barrel._  
  
_“But you won’t.”_  
  
_And he was right. Peter had never been disabled like this, the fear for Harley and Ben stopping any coherent thoughts, any action._  
  
_“You can do whatever you want with me,” He begged. “Just please, please-”_  
  


_The hair on Peter's neck stood up in a familiar tingle, catapulting his body forward just an instant before Jacob’s movements.  
  
_ _BANG._  
  
_An instance was all he needed._  
  
_Peter dropped to the ground, meters in front of his family._  
  
_Wet seeped from his throat. His body convulsed as the air was stolen from his lungs._  
  
_The wet was now coming from his mouth._  
  
_Blood. It was blood._  
  
_Blood from the bullet that had passed through his neck, tearing through his trachea and esophagus, into the wall behind him._  
  
_“I mean, that’s on me. I should have expected that. Lucky for me, but not for you, I’m a smart man. I have contingencies.” Jacob stated, eerily calm as he walked over to Peter’s seizing form._  
  
_He pressed his boot down on Peter's throat, choking him, forcing more blood up, a look of disgust as it speckled his shoes. He kicked at Peter’s cheek instead, forcing his head to roll to look at the two other figures in the room._  
  
_Harley wailed, loud enough to drown out Ben._  
  
_“SHUT UP.” Jacob snarled, striding over to Harley._  
  
_He whipped him across the face, sure to leave a matching bruise to the blemish already painted there. Unsatisfied, Jacob hit him again with the butt of the gun, hard enough to knock Harley to the ground. Ben slid from beneath his grip as he did so._  
  
_Jacob grabbed onto the child’s shirt as he tried to run to Peter, his shirt scrunched, successfully holding him hostage as he used his foot to nudge at Harley’s face._  
  
_"Stay awake, lover. I need all the Parker’s to pay attention to this next part.”_  
  
_The pool of blood around Peter grew larger, his eyes desperate as he looked to Harley. The blue eyes that looked back matched his fear.  
  
****__“I think you are dying, Peter Parker. I think that even Spider-Man, without his suit, cannot survive a bullet at such close range. You are trying to run from death, but this time your healing will not work in your favour. It will keep you alive long enough to see me slay the skin from your son. You will die to the sound of his screams. And when you die, it will be with the knowledge that I have decided to spare your husband's life, so he can wander the rest of his pathetic life, aimless and alone. And once you are dead, I will steal your memories to present them to your past self, so that you too can live with this knowledge.”_  
  
_Harley used his bound hands to push himself off the ground, lunging at Jacob, who kicked him back. Unhappy with the resistance, he stomped once on Harley’s head, the bone caving in at the contact._  
  
_Peter could no longer move any part of his body, his strength sapped as the life poured out of his body. Except his eyes. They flickered to Jacob’s hands which had produced a knife from his pocket. He tried, he willed any part of his body to do something, anything, but he lay paralysed as Jacob made his first cut into his son’s soft skin. He couldn't watch. He wouldn't. He tore his eyes back to Harley, who lay heaving on the ground, his eyes fluttering._  
  
_“For...give… me.” Peter rasped out, staring at Harley as the eyelids opened, unsure he could even be heard over the sound of Ben’s screams. Harley’s gaze remained focused on his son, his whole body shuddering._  
  
_“Harley.” Peter tried again, desperate, as he felt his consciousness slipping away. There was a tingle, much like his spider sense, but where his warnings were a warm jolt, this was a cool and painful grip, pulling at every cell of his body._  
  
_Although his husband could not see, Peter continued to look at Harley as he died._

~

Harley padded into Peter’s quiet room, slipping under the covers and allowing himself closer to him than he had ever before. But not closer than he could be. In time.  
  
“Do you forgive me?” Peter whispered into the darkness.  
  
“Always.”  
  
Peter relaxed, allowing Harley to roll him to his side, so his head was resting on Harley’s chest. Peter snuggled into the cavity, burrowing into the heartbeat before him, as Harley wrapped one arm tighter around Peter’s waist, the other coming up to caress his curls.  
  
“You know, Peter Parker, together, I reckon you and I could change the future.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life doesn't always have a fairy tale ending.


End file.
